


The Gift of Colour

by Mohnblume



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Soulmates, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27021058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mohnblume/pseuds/Mohnblume
Summary: The first time Lexa hears about soulmates, she’s eight and reading a torn up book at her latest foster home. It’s her sixth one so far, and while it’s not terrible, no one is ever around. Luckily, Lexa is used to being alone, so she finds things to entertain herself.It’s how she ended up reading this old book about soulmates. About how, upon finding your soulmate, the world will explode in colour.Lexa has never seen colour. And this explanation, this concept of soulmates, gives her hope. She wants to see colour so much. She wants to find the person who will help her see it, who will love her, and never leave.Or,Lexa believes, loses hope, and then believes again.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 31
Kudos: 228





	The Gift of Colour

**Author's Note:**

> This idea wouldn't leave me alone, and I thought it was perfect for these two. I hope you like it!

The first time Lexa hears about soulmates, she’s eight and reading a torn up book at her latest foster home. It’s her sixth one so far, and while it’s not terrible, no one is ever around. Luckily, Lexa is used to being alone, so she finds things to entertain herself. 

It’s how she ended up reading this old book about soulmates. About how, upon finding your soulmate, the world will explode in colour. 

Lexa has never seen colour. And this explanation, this concept of soulmates, gives her hope. She wants to see colour so much. She wants to find the person who will help her see it, who will love her, and never leave. 

Thinking about soulmates gets her through most of her childhood. It gets her through the bullies, who despise the cold, quiet girl who prefers to read than to make friends. It gets her through the foster parents who would rather hit her than talk to her. It gets her through nights of hunger, nights of terrible nightmares, nights of burning pain from the bruises and scrapes. 

It gets her through her rough upbringing. Her soulmate is her lifeline, her consolation prize at the end of the tunnel, her reward for her suffering. She’s sure of it. 

She’s sure of it until she meets Anya. She’s 17 and nearly old enough to escape the frequent moves from home to home. Anya is a few years older than her, but grew up in the system just like her. They meet at the job she finds to save some money for college. Anya takes her in. 

Friendship is not something Lexa has ever known. Because she’s been bounced around her whole life, it’s hard to keep friends. Besides, Lexa isn’t very good at making friends to begin with; she’s never been particularly social. 

Anya is different. Anya is hardened, just like her. Maybe more so than her. She’s loyal, and prickly, and everything Lexa needs in a friend. She knows that this is a friendship she can trust. She can trust Anya to tell her the truth, and not abandon her. 

So when Anya tells her that soulmates don’t exist, she believes her. She believes her and she spirals. 

…

Her awakening starts with a quiet shift. Lexa and Anya work at a warehouse in the back of a local grocery store. They’re doing inventory, and it’s tedious, but they’re going to get overtime.

“Lex, pass me the red marker,” Anya says errantly. 

Lexa grabs all four markers, reading the label on each one before she finds the right one. She can probably guess which one is red, but she’s a perfectionist, and it’s a little embarrassing to always get it wrong. 

She holds out the marker, already going back to her own marking.

“I didn’t know you were colourblind.” 

Lexa looks up at her. “I haven’t met my soulmate yet.”

The look Anya gives her is full of pity. Lexa’s gotten that look from many social workers, even teachers when she’s come to school with bruises or black eyes. But rarely from Anya, and it makes her sick.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need someone to be whole. You’re only 17, kid. Still a whole lifetime to find that lucky guy,” Anya says quietly.

“Oh, I know,” Lexa responds, as if the thought of her soulmate isn’t the one thing that gets her through some days, “but I mean I haven’t met them yet, so I can’t see colour.”

“Lexa.” Anya has fully stopped what she’s doing, turning to face the younger girl. “Lex, soulmates are a myth. They don’t really exist.”

“What? What do you mean they don’t exist? Are you trying to be funny? It’s not funny!” Lexa’s standing up now, her voice raising in pitch and volume with each question. Her heart is pounding, and she can feel the fragile hope she’s placed in her future lover crumbling. 

A hand lands on her shoulder. She flinches, as usual, but this time it’s not the memories that she shies away from. It’s the comfort. She doesn’t want to be soothed by the person who just tore away her one dream. 

She’s leaving before her brain can catch up. Suddenly, she’s bursting out the employee only door, running wildly in no particular direction. Just _away._

…

It takes Lexa three days to come back to the home she’s staying in. Not that her parents were worried, or even noticed. It takes her another week to come back to work and face Anya. 

Part of it is that she’s never been good at apologies. She’s never really had another friend, and she’s never cared about anyone before. 

The other part is the research she’s been doing. After hours of googling soulmates and colour blindness, she feels like a fool. It’s not her fault, not really, because she’s never been to the eye doctor and she’s never had friends or teachers care enough to look into why her drawings were oddly coloured and her clothes didn’t match. 

Just reading about soulmates makes her stomach burn with shame. They’re fairy tales, myths, stories, things that a 17 year old girl should not believe in. And to top it all off, she’s just learned that she will never see colour. She’ll never look at the sky and marvel at its specific shade of blue, or delight in the leaves in the fall. 

There’s no perfect person for her out there. No one is waiting to meet her, waiting to be exactly what she needs. 

She’s devastated. Broken and alone, just like before, but now she knows that this is her destiny. This is what she’s always known, deep down, but the reminder burns a fragile part of her heart, a part she didn’t even know existed. 

She puts her head down. Works all the extra shifts she can get, and studies in the time in between. She rarely goes home, not even for food, and she loses the last of her baby fat. It means her foster parents don’t have to care for her, so they let her stay away, collecting money for her while providing nothing. 

It’s not a good life, but it gets her through her last year in the system. And on her 18th birthday, Anya offers her the extra bedroom in her apartment, and she moves in with her only friend. 

She gets into college, a full scholarship through a program that helps students who were in the system get an education. She decides she wants to be a lawyer. 

So it’s back to school and work again. It’s all she needs. She is all she needs. Her and Anya, work, and school. 

It gets her through the first year of college. She successfully avoids Anya’s pleas to come out with her, and meet new people. She’s content. Maybe she’s a little lonely, and maybe there are days that she doesn’t know why she bothers to get up in the morning, but she’s surviving. 

Then Anya meets someone. 

…

It’s not even someone Anya is interested in. No, that would be easy. That would be nice. Lexa would meet this person, resent them, and then come to accept them into their little family. 

But no, it’s someone she thinks would be perfect for Lexa, and Lexa, hardened after her belief in soulmates had been ripped away, hates it.

Lexa doesn’t blame Anya. It’s not her fault that she took away Lexa’s dream. It’s not Anya’s fault that Lexa sees the world in black and white. It’s not her fault that she wants her friend, someone who she’s come to see as a little sister, happy. 

Still, Lexa can’t help but resent her, anger and sorrow clawing at her soul, whenever she mentions this person. Or any person, really because Anya seems to find a lot of people who would be just _perfect_ for Lexa. 

By now, Lexa has realised she’s gay. She’s never had any interest in boys, but she certainly isn’t going to tell Anya that. Or anyone for that matter. She learned her lesson the last time, and she doesn’t want to find out that something else is wrong with her. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, she reasons with herself. She’ll take the sly comments about boys that come into the store as long as she never has to see that look of pity on Anya’s face again. 

…

Lexa has just gotten accepted into law school when she meets her.

Clarke.

Anya finally pulled the younger woman out of their apartment after days of studying in celebration. Anya’s always had a more robust social life, and while Lexa wouldn’t call any of Anya’s friends her friends, she feels comfortable enough with most of them.

They go to a bar. It’s not somewhere Lexa would ever go, but Anya insisted, saying that she wouldn’t have time to do this when she’s in school studying to be a bigshot lawyer. 

It’s loud, and crowded, and Lexa is already regretting letting Anya drag her out. She’s old enough to drink now, a small mercy. So Lexa orders a whiskey and is content to hide away in the corner of their table and listen as Anya’s friends talk. 

She’s on her third drink when the most beautiful woman walks in with another group of girls. She’s got light hair, fair skin, and she’s wearing skin tight jeans. 

Lexa’s eyes are drawn to her ample cleavage, and she blushes. 

“Oh hey, it’s Raven!” Anya’s voice startles her out of her trance.

A dark haired woman from the group looks towards them and waves. She’s got a slight limp, but she walks quickly over to their table. 

Soon enough, Raven and her group of friends are crowded around Lexa’s table, and this is pretty much Lexa’s nightmare. 

The beautiful woman, Clarke, Lexa learns, is just beginning med school. She’s the daughter of a surgeon, and when she’s not studying, she likes to do art. 

She has also not dated since she found out that her boyfriend was cheating. Something Raven brings up several times throughout the night. Raven encourages Clarke to move on, constantly making suggestive comments about girls and guys that walk in. 

Clarke doesn’t seem to say much, preferring to listen. She seems nice enough, but she looks at Lexa like she wants to talk to her. It makes Lexa anxious, so she quietly excuses herself to the balcony. 

The balcony is normally where people go to smoke, but it’s empty now. Lexa is grateful for the silence and solitude. She closes her eyes, steels herself against her thoughts about the light haired woman. 

“Hey, are you okay?” The voice startles herself so much, she stumbles backwards, only to be caught by warm hands. 

“Yeah,” Lexa answers hoarsely. 

Clarke moves her hand, pushing it into her pocket. “You don’t seem much like the bar type.”

“I’m not,” Lexa says bluntly. 

“Friends drag you out too?” Clarke asks wryly. 

“Yeah,” Lexa repeats. She mentally slaps herself for the short answers, but doesn’t offer anything else. 

“My friends do it because they care about me. They’re good friends,” Clarke says, and oh. Lexa isn’t used to having _real_ conversations with anyone other than Anya. 

Lexa doesn’t know what to say to that, so she doesn’t say anything. She just shivers lightly, and stares ahead.

“Hey,” Clarke says suddenly, “Let’s get out of here. Wanna go get some food?”

“Okay.”

…

They find a 24 hour diner a few blocks down, and Lexa sits through the meal that feels suspiciously like a date. 

Not that she’s ever actually been on a date. She’s made out with girls before, sure. She even had a brief thing with a girl named Costia, but she doesn’t date. 

Lexa’s already done with her food, just anxiously waiting for Clarke to eat the giant stack of pancakes when Clarke decides to break the semi awkward silence. 

“So, you don’t let people in much do you, Lexa?” 

It’s unnerving how Clarke’s pale eyes seem to pierce her soul. Lexa feels exposed. She hasn’t felt this vulnerable since that day in the stockroom with Anya. 

“I don’t know if that’s relevant,” she says, and hopes it doesn’t come out as shaky as she feels. 

Clarke narrows her eyes. “I want to get to know you. I think it’s very relevant.”

“Why?” Lexa is nothing if not blunt, but instead of being comforting, it feels like her short answers are exposing her more than they are protecting her. 

By the way Clarke tilts her head and studies her, she’s nearly positive that the other woman can see directly into her mind. 

“What are you so afraid of?” Clarke counters. 

“I…” The word trails off, leaving Lexa’s mouth dry and her palms sweaty. She’s never felt like this before.

“Let me take you out. Just once, and then if it doesn’t work out, we can just part ways and never think about each other again,” Clarke says and Lexa curses herself for her inability to think clearly around pretty girls. 

“Fine. Once. And you tell Anya that we’re doing this.”

The grin Clarke shoots her almost makes this whole ordeal worth it. “Deal. But if you think Anya is going to scare me out of this, you’re wrong.” 

“No,” Lexa mutters under her breath, “I just want her to get off my back about meeting new people.”

…

Anya, unsurprisingly, is thrilled when Clarke announces that she and Lexa are going to meet later that week. 

Surprisingly, all the bravado is gone when Clarke speaks to the older woman. She doesn’t mention that it’s a date, and she doesn’t tease Lexa about it either. It gives Lexa some hope that this might not be as bad as she fears. 

The downside to her only friend not knowing that she’s about to go on a date with a beautiful woman is that said friend is not there to help her pick out what to wear. Lexa has her entire wardrobe organized by colour, with the shade of each garment labeled on the tags. She tries on three outfits, before settling on a dark green blouse and black skinny jeans. Anya once told her that green makes her eyes pop.

The venue that Clarke picks is another restaurant, similar to the one that they found the last time they met. It’s small, but intimate. Their table is tucked into a corner, with a window overlooking a well cared for garden. 

Clarke begins the night with perfect chivalry. She opens doors for Lexa, pulls out her chair, and helps her out of her coat. It’s a bit unnerving, because no one has ever done anything like this for Lexa. 

The light haired woman allows them some silence while they pick their entrees. While the restaurant is small, Clarke assures her that their food is excellent. 

After their order is placed, Clarke props her elbows on the table and gives Lexa that piercing look that makes her feel so exposed. 

“I hope you like this place. It’s been a favourite of mine since I was a girl,” Clarke says. It comes out nonchalant, but Lexa knows enough about people to see the memories that are swimming around in the other woman’s mind. 

Lexa, having very few experiences with restaurants in her childhood, opts to compliment it. It seems like the right thing to do. “It’s very lovely here.”

Clarke gives her a small smile. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Why did you bring me here?” she asks, genuinely curious. It’s hard to get a read on the other woman. She’s mysterious and open, an oxymoron of a person. 

“I wanted to get to know you better. It’s first date etiquette,” Clarke says, and it doesn’t feel like she’s explaining the concept to a small child. It feels like she knows that Lexa has never been on a date before, never let herself open up enough. “This place is quiet, good for conversation. The food is good and I already know the menu, so I don’t have to worry about what to order. I thought about taking you somewhere else, somewhere more flashy, but I figured you’d prefer somewhere a little smaller.”

A blush creeps up Lexa’s neck and cheeks. No one has ever put so much effort into her own comfort. It’s endearing, and foreign. “That was thoughtful.”

Clarke grins. “So Lexa, tell me about yourself.”

Lexa sighs. She decides that it’s probably easier to tell the truth than to have Clarke wrestle it out of her. She knows the other woman could. “I’m 21 years old, I have two part time jobs, a best friend, no family, and I’m colourblind. I’m going to study law and I like to beat people up in my spare time.”

“You’re adorable,” Clarke says and Lexa flushes again, a little indignantly. 

“I am not!” she insists. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about the great Clarke Griffin.”

“Well, I am 21 and in my first year of med school. I wanted to be an artist as a kid, but my best friend was in a car crash and I realised that what I wanted more than anything was to save people. I graduated from university a year early and got accepted to med school. A lot of my teachers know my mom, she’s a surgeon. Oh, and I’m bi,” Clarke finishes with a grin. 

At this point, Lexa doesn’t know what to say. Clarke is open in a way that she and Anya aren't. She doesn’t have any other friends, and it’s unnerving to be so close to someone who so radiates positivity. She nods, hoping that Clarke will continue to take control of the conversation. 

The other woman does. She asks Lexa about her major, about her acceptance to law school, and what kind of lawyer she wants to be. She’s intuitive, and knows to avoid Lexa’s past. She shows Lexa some of her art. 

It’s nice. It’s more than nice, but this is a first date and it absolutely cannot go any further than this. Judging by the way Lexa’s heart clenches when Clarke chuckles at her dry humor, or the way her smile is brighter than the sun, Lexa could be in big trouble. 

Of course, all Lexa’s resolution goes flying out the window when Clarke offers to walk her to the door. In the seconds between Lexa fumbling with her keys, and Clarke saying goodnight, the other woman asks her on a second date.

And like the love-starved idiot she is, Lexa agrees. 

…

Their second date takes place at a nicer restaurant. It’s almost as if Clarke is working Lexa up to real romance, and it’s easier this time. Clarke never oversteps, never pushes Lexa. It’s nice. It’s sweet. 

Clarke is easy to talk to. She’s witty and charming. Lexa learns more about her, and she finds herself keeping each detail close to her heart. 

She learns that Clarke and her mother were never very close growing up, and that Clarke had always preferred spending time with her father. When he had passed away when she was 16, their relationship had taken a turn for the worst. Lexa’s heart clenches as she listens to Clarke’s voice waver as she tells Lexa about their tearful conversation after the other woman had been accepted to med school.

She hears about the story of Finn, the boy who had cheated on her, but had given her a best friend. 

Lexa finds herself agreeing to another date. She’s in awe of this woman, who has been hurt, who has lost, but still finds it in herself to love again. She’s enamoured in a way that she hasn’t ever felt before.

Because Clarke is soft in all the ways that Lexa isn’t. She’s sweet and caring, even though the world has been cruel to her. In a way, Lexa envies her. So, at the end of their second date, she agrees to see her again. Clarke still doesn’t try to kiss her or invite herself into Lexa’s apartment. 

…

On the third date, everything is going wrong. It starts off with a joke. 

Clarke has been nothing but considerate and kind, always keeping an eye on Lexa’s body language, and letting her set the pace. But tonight, they run into Raven, the brunette from the first day she and Clarke met. 

Which, theoretically should have been fine, but Raven has apparently been informed about their first two dates, so she knows that this is their third one. 

When she sees them, Lexa immediately knows she’s going to be teased. Raven’s eyebrows wag, her eyes narrowing suggestively. 

“Get it, Clarke!” she hoots, limping towards them. 

Clarke blushes, mumbling something that sounds like, “Shut it, Raven.”

But Raven doesn’t stop her teasing there. “Isn’t this your third date? How did the princess manage to score a third date with such a beautiful lady?” she asks, turning her smirk on Lexa. 

It’s Lexa’s turn to blush. She doesn’t know Raven well enough to ask her to leave them alone, so she resigns herself to squirming uncomfortably in her seat until the encounter is over. 

Luckily, Clarke seems to sense that she’s uncomfortable. The light haired woman sends a warning glare at her friend. 

Unfortunately, that only makes Raven tease her more. “Aww come on, Clarke. It’s the third date! You’ve got to admit she’s hot. Tell me you weren’t thinking about taking her back to your apartment and fucking her against every surface tonight.”

Lexa doesn’t hear the rest of their conversation, because as soon as the expletive leaves Raven’s mouth, she’s up and bolting into the bathroom. She vaguely registers Clarke calling after her, hissing angrily to her friend. 

She doesn’t care. She just needs to get out of there to collect herself. She should never have agreed to this.

Once she reaches the bathroom, Lexa allows herself to sink into the wall. She wills her heart to stop racing and her mind to calm. 

It doesn’t take long. It never has. In about ten minutes, Lexa is brushing herself off, washing her hands, and heading back to Clarke. She’s already got a plan to end things with the other woman, but she feels like she owes her an explanation. 

Clarke is sitting at their table, alone, with a worried look on her face. That look lessens significantly when Lexa comes into view. 

“Lexa!” she says, jumping up, “I’m so sorry about Raven. She doesn’t have a filter and I didn’t know she would be here tonight.”

Taken aback by the intensity of Clarke’s words, Lexa forgets her breakup plan. She scans the other woman’s pale eyes, searching for insincerity. Finding none, she reluctantly sits down at the table. 

“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologise for something that you can’t control,” she finds herself saying. 

And just like that, they’re back to their usual easy conversation. Lexa forgets all about cutting things off.

The good mood lasts until Clarke takes Lexa home. 

It’s nothing different than the other two times they’ve done this. Clarke doesn’t invite herself in, doesn’t make any suggestive comments or mention third date etiquette. 

In fact, she’s probably only leaning in to kiss Lexa on the cheek, because she’s not even looking at Lexa’s lips. 

But it’s different from all the goodbyes before. It’s tender and affectionate and it brings back all the reasons that Lexa has lived without love in her life for so long. 

Her eyes slam closed, and her breathing speeds up. 

Clarke must sense that something isn’t right, because she freezes.

“I can’t do this,” Lexa whispers.

“Why not?” Clarke asks, her voice just as soft. 

“Because I’m broken!” Lexa all but screams, traitorous tears leaking out of her eyes in frustration and sorrow.

Clarke’s eyes soften. “Lexa, what are you talking about?”

“I’m broken,” Lexa repeats, shaking her head, gesturing to her eyes as she begins to walk away, “I’m colorblind and I was so stupid and desperate to believe that someone could ever love me that I believed in soulmates. I was _so_ pathetic. Love doesn’t exist for people like me.”

Clarke’s pale eyes are still trained on Lexa, pacing back and forth. “You’re not broken.”

Lexa just continues talking, as if she hasn’t heard the other girl. “And then Anya tells me one day that there’s no such thing as soulmates and I just felt so stupid. Of course. _Of course_ no one was meant for me. There are no soulmates. No one will ever love me.” Lexa’s voice cracks on the last word, tears still dripping down her cheeks.

Clarke moves to touch her shoulder, but Lexa, in her storm of sadness self-hatred flinches back. Before the other woman can say another word, she whirls around and all but runs into the building. 

Clarke doesn’t go after her, still frozen by her thoughts.

…

Lexa doesn’t hear from Clarke for a week. For one long week, Lexa cries herself to sleep, cursing the weakness that has invaded her mind and soul. 

_Love is weakness,_ she chants to herself, _love is weakness._

On the seventh day, after one whole week of dragging herself out of bed to go to work, and stubbornly refusing to talk to Anya, her doorbell rings. 

It’s strange, and Lexa assumes that it’s just someone there to sell her something. She ignores it, not having the energy to deal with some stranger.

When the bell rings again, and again, she forces herself up from the couch where she was sitting, papers falling from her lap to the ground. She’s a little disheveled, a little haggard, as she stumbles to the door. 

As she’s walking, she errantly wonders when the last time she ate. She should really order some food, if only to appease the scolding voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Anya’s.

But when she opens the door, there is no overly cheerful salesperson. There’s no one there, and just as Lexa goes to slam the door closed in frustration, she sees a little brown package on her welcome mat. 

She bends down, inspecting it. It seems innocent enough, but there are no tags from the post. Just her name written in beautiful calligraphy. 

After taking one last look at the empty hallway, she takes the package back into her flat. It’s probably not safe to take strange packages, but curiosity gets the best of her. Curiosity, and the recklessness of a miserable life. 

It’s easy to unwrap the thing, as it seems to be held together by a single piece of tape. It’s just a plain box. It’s the kind of gray that Lexa knows would be a soft pastel colour. 

She holds her breath as she opens the box. Inside is just a single pair of spectacles. The lenses are dark, like sunglasses. Lexa takes them out, squinting curiously. She can’t imagine a single person who would send her sunglasses in such a mysterious way. 

But when she looks back in the box, there’s a piece of paper that she’s missed. It’s folded in half, the outside decorated in doodles of rainbows and other cute shapes. She opens it up and finds a note. Her heart is beating loudly in her chest, and all the air whooshes out. 

_Lexa,_

_I know you stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago. I can’t give you fairytale love, but I can give you this. Put the glasses on, Lex. This is my gift to you._

_Clarke._

Lexa traces a finger on Clarke’s name. She lifts the plastic frames to her face, closing her eyes as she slips them on. She doesn’t know why she’s doing this, and she allows herself to feel ridiculous for a few moments. She lets herself feel pathetic that she’s sitting alone in her apartment, wearing sunglasses because the beautiful woman who’s managed to capture her heart gave them to her. 

She doesn’t even bother to think about why the other woman has given her these glasses until she opens her eyes and _oh_

The world bursts into colour. 

Lexa’s eyes widen, as she takes in the room around her. The paper in her hand, she realises is green, like the leaves on the tree outside. The doodles are almost garishly colourful. She surges to her feet, tears slipping down her cheeks unnoticed. 

Almost without thinking, Lexa runs to her front door, throwing it open.

“Clarke!” she yells, uncaring if her neighbors think she’s gone mad. “Clarke!”

Her heart stutters when there’s no response. Lexa’s thoughts run wild as she berates herself for not answering the door sooner. She might have seen the other woman. 

She rushes to the window overlooking the street outside of the building, barely taking time to marvel at the blue of the sky or the yellow of the sun.

“Hi,” she hears from behind her, shy and soft. 

She whirls around, and oh. 

Clarke was beautiful before, when she was black and white and grey. But now, now she’s _stunning._ She’s pale yellow sun-kissed hair, peachy skin, and baby blue, soulful eyes. 

“Clarke,” Lexa breathes, barely able to keep herself upright. She distantly registers the pink blush that colours the blonde’s cheeks. 

“Lexa,” Clarke says, blushing harder. 

It’s all they say before Lexa is surging forward, lips crashing together. The kiss is a little awkward, Lexa’s new glasses crashing into Clarke’s cheeks, but it’s perfect and wonderful and _everything._

When they come up for air, Clarke rests her forehead against Lexa’s. Lexa loses herself in those deep blue eyes, eyes that seem to say so much.

She wants to tell Clarke how much this means to her. How she doesn’t believe in soulmates anymore, but she does believe in Clarke. How colour pales in comparison to the gesture that Clarke has made. That Clarke had heard the lonely and sad child in her heart and hadn’t laughed, but _listened._

She doesn’t know how to say any of that, so she simply kisses Clarke again. 

“Go out with me,” Clarke says suddenly, breaking away from the kiss. 

“What?” Lexa asks, too breathless to say more.

“Go out with me,” Clarke repeats. “On a date. To dinner. Or a museum. Or an art gallery. I don’t really care, just go out with me.”

“Okay,” Lexa says. “Okay.”

And something a lot like hope curdles in her stomach, a long lost feeling that brings a flicker of warmth into her heart.

**Author's Note:**

> As a disclaimer, I know that colourblind glasses don't work for everyone and wouldn't work on someone who has Achromatopsia or complete colourblindness like Lexa does here. For the sake of the fic though, let's pretend that they would work perfectly and Lexa can see the full spectrum of colours with them on. Because fiction magic.


End file.
